Sweet Nothing
by Light My Words
Summary: She'd been to crime scenes, found murder dungeons and torture chambers, but never anything like this. When Jane finds a woman who shouldn't be alive, huddled up in a dark corner with a little girl, there's no other option other than to take the pair in and show them life is more than the basement they've known.
1. The Dark

This place was truly hell. It wasn't just dark, it was black, completely devoid of light. There was nothing shining through cracks under the doors or between the joins of curtains to highlight the room, nothing but her flashlight and the beams of the two men behind her. She'd been to crime scenes, found murder dungeons and torture chambers, but never anything like this. The house was in the middle of no where, a run down shack with boarded windows and peeling paint. The flower beds were empty and the weeds outside drooped in the sun, as if too tainted by the evil surrounding it to grow. The floorboards inside creaked and bent under her weight, and the carpet in what was designed to be a living room was damp and moulding. The kitchen was torn to shreds and smelt strongly of cigarette smoke and destruction, the fridge door hanging off its hinges, hardly disguising the old jar of something that used to be edible. The entire place was eery, as if every inch of the abandoned shack was crawling with traumatised souls that we're long gone from this earth. Not that Jane believed in that sort of thing.

From behind her she heard a floorboard give way, and it took all she had to restrain a sound of surprise. "Fuck," muttered one of the men, retracting his foot from only God knows what lay beneath the old flooring. She heard the other whisper something jokingly under his breath to relieve the tension, but she could only focus on the path ahead of her. She paused for a moment, shining light over the walls while Korsak regained his bearings, and his foot. She wanted to express her horror at what she saw on those walls, but nothing would come out. Drawings, in crayon and something else dark and brown and dirty. Children's drawings, little stick figures with flowers and grass and smiling faces, and then crosses and splatters marked over the top in dried blood. What had gone on in is house, she had very little knowledge of, and it terrified her and forced her to walk on all the same.

They'd cleared two locked rooms, empty and mouldy and in character with the rest of the building. Now there was no where to go but down, and even though she was brave, it took a lot of nerve and a lot of swallowing to push open the basement door and shine her flash light down the stairs. Nothing much was visible, the dark was so over powering and impenetrable that the light barely reached a step in front of her. She should have been using the rail to guide her, but she didn't want to risk touching something that would make her stomach churn more than it already was. It was unlike the last time she'd raced down the stairs of a basement, that horrifying night when her own personal monster had blind-sighted her and instilled in her the worst kind of fear anyone could ask for. The memories. This time she just needed to remind herself that no one was waiting at the bottom of those stairs for her, and she had two very trustworthy men behind her that would die before something happened to her, the same way she would for them.

Ahead of her there was a scatter or a rattle, or something that the three of them hadn't created. She paused on the step third from the ground.  
"Boston Police Department, it's okay we aren't here to hurt you." Her words came out a little shakier than normal as she scrambled down the last three stairs. A cord dangling from the crumbling roof caught her eye as she shone her light around in vain. Reaching out, she grasped it firmly and gave it a tug until something clicked over and a small dying lightbulb flickered a few times before coming to life. It was old, and hadn't been used much as a layer of dust crept up her nose and threatened irritation with the movement of the chain. It took a few minutes to cut through the dark like a knife through flesh and once warmed up the three detectives were afforded the view of a small concrete room, wooden roof caving in. It smelt like death, raw and harsh and Jane could almost taste the metallic bitterness of blood through her nose and on her tongue. There were more drawings down here, over walls and floors and there were still a few select crayons off to one corner. That's when she caught the source of the movement, the rustle of skin against material in the far corner of the room, still hidden in the shadow of darkness. She walked slowly, flashlight and gun trained at the ready. It wasn't at all what she expected.

A fully grown woman, small and frail and curled in on herself. Her dark blonde curls were a tattered mess, knotted and twisted yet somehow still cherubic. Unlike the little girl clasped firmly in her chest, the woman met Jane's surprised glance. Her eyes were the shape of almonds, and were a wonderful mix of green and topaz with specks of wisdom and fear. The younger girl squirmed and the woman whispered something, never taking her eyes from Jane. She was made up of mostly bruises and pain, and for a moment the detectives stood in awe of the fact that they'd found one of his victims alive.  
"It's okay," Jane spoke quietly, afraid to startle the being that looked so fragile. "I'm a police officer, I'm going to get you out of here. Can you stand?" The men behind her took a few quiet steps back, and Jane smiled her warm, protective smile and put her gun away with slow movements. It took a few moments of an extended hand before anyone moved. The blonde pushed herself to her feet, pain flashing through her eyes as she did so, but refused to take the hand offered to her. She kept the child attached to her front, her thin scrawny arms wrapped tightly and protectively around the little girl with darker curls. Jane Rizzoli found herself nauseated at the thought of just how that child came to be in this world.

The blonde moved hesitantly toward the stairs, only continuing when she felt the other woman's presence firmly behind her, arm outstretched around her shoulders without actually making contact. It took them a little while to make it back up the stairs and through the building before pushing through the front door. The woman and the child both cowered from he sunlight outside, and Jane had to wonder how long it had been since they'd seen natural light, whether it was something the little girl had ever seen. After opening the car door for the blonde to sit, Frost and Korsak decided on one last sweep of the house while Jane found out what she could. In order to not seem intimidating, the brunette crouched by the unmarked police vehicle.  
"I'm Detective Jane Rizzoli, what's your name?" Her question was gentle, tilting her head in an effort to get a better look at the little girl while the woman pondered answering.  
"Maura," she croaked after a little while, sweeping a mess of hair from her face.  
"Hi Maura. Is this your little girl?" A nod. "What's her name?"  
"Gracie" She replied, voice quieter this time.  
"That's a really pretty name. Hello Gracie." There was no response from either.

Jane had questions that followed, such as how long she'd been there and if anyone else was in the house, but she didn't get a reply. There was nothing more than blank stares and the faint sound of Maura's once white gown rubbing against the leather car seat as she rocked carefully back and forth. Whether it was for her daughter or for her own comfort, Jane didn't know.

* * *

It was bright, blinding and before she could comprehend what was happening, Gracie let out a shrill scream and her arms tightened instinctively, pulling back from the gloved hands grasping at her. Her heart rate picked up, and her eyes darted around the room in panic. She could only pick up the silhouettes of the people around her, eyes still trying in vain to adjust to the hospital lights. Bile made its way up from her stomach, but she pushed it down as she scrambled backwards, Gracie clutched tightly to her chest. There was a part of her that had very little fight left, a part that wished she could have given up a long time ago and given into death and whatever dark void that came after. The other part of her, the bigger part was a mother, and would fight to the death for her little girl. The people around her were speaking, but they were all speaking so fast and at the same time, that her mind was struggling to take it in. She'd been alone for so long, with only Gracie' s little tone and her own mind that it was overwhelming to hear so much at once. When someone grasped the toddler and tried to pull again, Maura let out a fierce scream. It wasn't until she heard the voice from the house that she settled. Her eyes had adjusted a little better to the light, and she could make out the nurses and the doctor standing in front of her in what had to be an emergency room. The woman was to her right, hand reached out without touching her.

"Maura, it's Jane. It's okay, they're not going to hurt Gracie. They just want to makes sure you're both healthy." Her voice was raspy but strangely soft and sweet. She was calm and patient and waited for Maura to loosen her grip on the little brunette. "I'm going to stay right here, okay. I'll make sure they don't hurt you, and if they do something you don't like, we'll make them stop." Jane reached out slowly, helping Maura seat Gracie on the bed beside her. The blonde was still hesitant, and she held onto the little girls hand, who in term buried her head in her mother's shoulder. It was heart breaking to see the terror reflected in both sets of hazel eyes.

Jane made sure throughout all their tests, the pair stayed together. After her initial fight, Maura sat hypnotically still and let the nurses go about their jobs. She didn't say a word, just continued rubbing her thumb in slow circles on the palm of her little girls hand. The victims Jane encountered were rarely alive and there was suddenly nothing more confronting than dealing with someone that had been through all the same torture and pain but had managed to live through it. The vacancy in the blondes eyes was terrifying, and it was then that Jane realised she couldn't sit back and watch this woman be thrust back into society with very little help. She was going to help in any way she could, and if that meant taking the two in and showing them that life was more than that small treacherous dungeon, then that was what she was going to do.


	2. The New

This is a little later than I expected, and a lot messier but I thought I should upload something before the week starts all over again.

* * *

She was granted her four weeks leave the day she heard Maura was being discharged from hospital. It had been nearly three weeks since they'd pulled both Isles girls from the shack hidden away on the outskirts of Boston, and Jane hadn't left their side. Gracie was, after a few hearty meals and a cheeseburger Jane had snuck in, looking considerably better. While Maura's x-rays were littered with poorly healed broken bones and fractures, Gracie's were clean. The only scuff she had on her body was the one she'd gotten by falling from the hospital crib in an effort to get her new teddy from the floor. She'd of course taken an instant liking to Jane, and the detective was relieved to find that her childhood until this point had very little effect on her innocence. However, the same could not be said for her mother. Maura Isles was in every sense of the word, broken. She smiled and watched as Gracie played, but she never initiated conversation with Jane, and any replies to questions were always given in short bursts or not at all. She shied away from any contact, and the only one she'd except into her arms was the little brunette. It wasn't until the day of her release from the hospital, while she was shrugging on a jacket of Jane's that was entirely too large for her, that she opened her mouth willingly. They were watching Gracie roll around on the floor, teddy bear held above her.

"I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for her." Maura spoke clearly, but for the most part she was devoid of emotion and the detective couldn't be sure if the words were even truly meant for her ears.

"She's worth living for," Jane offered in agreement.

"I meant that if I hadn't have fallen pregnant, I would have ended up like all the other women. Sometimes I wish that had of been my fate instead." She said it so casually that Jane didn't know how to react, and by the time she was ready to say anything at all, the shorter woman had collected Gracie and was waiting to be carted off to the next place she was supposed to call home.

Jane's apartment was small and only contained two bedrooms, one of which was hers. This meant Maura and Gracie would have to share a room, and she couldn't help but feel she'd pulled them from one small contained area to another, and that thought in turn filled her with a new level of guilt. The blonde didn't seem overly phased by her new living arrangements, although she rarely seemed bothered by anything. Her right arm was still hooked in a sling and her face still echoed with bruises and pain, but she didn't once complain. She followed behind Jane as she gave the pair a tour of their new living arrangements, stopping at the guest room.

"Unfortunately there's only one other bedroom, so you and Gracie will have to share for a little while, but my Ma bought over a crib for her to sleep in."  
Maura nodded slowly, as something between sadness and appreciation flickered briefly through her eyes. Jane imagined it must have been hard to bring a child into the world without being able to provide them with something as simple as a crib, and for a moment she thought she understood a little of what the other woman was thinking.

Gracie had changed too, as soon as they'd left the hospital she had become the same shy, subdued little girl that wouldn't leave her mother's side and Jane couldn't help but feel that she was doing something wrong. She questioned whether the move to bring them both back here had been in their best interests as much as it had been in hers. Pushing the insecurity away, Jane guided them toward the living area and turned the television on the the pair, handing the remote to Maura as she announced she was going to make them a hearty homemade meal - because hospital food just didn't cut it.

* * *

The first scream sounded just after midnight, and it startled Jane straight from a nightmare and out of bed. It was ear piercing and long winded and had Jane racing down the hall toward the sound, gun at the ready. She pushed the guest door open and flicked on the light to find Maura sitting in the middle of the queen sized bed, thin limbs wrapped around the source of the noise. Gracie's eyes were red and swollen with tears, her little nails digging into her mothers arm as she watched Jane enter. It wasn't until she saw Maura's mouth move that she noticed she was whispering something to the distraught little girl.

"It's okay," she heard, as she lowered her gun. "Home is wherever Momma is, and I'm right here." Her voice was calm and quiet, but Jane noticed something hiding just under the surface of her tone. It was something far beyond sadness, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it but it broke her heart all the same. The words sunk in and the detective realised the screams that had torn her from sleep were more than just the nightly cries of a toddler, they were pleas to go home. The realisation churned her stomach and formed a lump in her throat, and she came to the conclusion that she was far out of her depth, but it didn't stop her from wanting to help. Before she could say anything, Maura turned to look at the brunette, good arm still clasped firmly around the whimpering Gracie.

"I'm sorry for waking you." Her apology was sincere and teetering on the edge of dismissive. Jane shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Honestly it's not a problem. If you need anything, I'm just down the hall." She gestured to her right before turning on her heel, pausing with her finger on the light switch. "On or off?" She questioned, not wanting to make anything more difficult for the pair.

"Off, thank you." Came Maura's reply. "She's still not accustomed to the light." Her words made Jane feel sick as she turned off the light and closed the door behind her on her way back to her room for a restless nights sleep.

Jane awoke early the next morning, having barely slept since she left Maura and Gracie in the dark of her guest room. Thoughts of the two and that small dank basement had plagued her ability to sleep, so she'd decided to get up early and do something for the two rather than wallow in pity. Cooking had never been her strong suit. Coming from an Italian family had meant she was a well versed sous-chef in classic dishes like bolognese, but anything further was often lost on her. Today she was going to attempt pancakes, because if her mother could make bunny shaped ones, surely they couldn't be too difficult. That being said, she'd burnt the first three and had lost a quarter of the mixture to the counter, but eventually she got the hang of it and during her last few she heard someone emerge from the guest room. A dining room chair was pulled back, and she heard Maura tell the toddler to sit.

"Do you need any help?" She asked, voice sweet and soft as ever. Jane turned and shook her heard with a smile, carrying a plate toward the table.

"Nope, it's all done. I hope pancakes are okay." She set out three plates with corresponding forks.  
"Thank you," it was sincere and heart felt as she placed a pancake onto her daughters plate and used the edge of a fork to cut it into smaller pieces. Jane sat down with the pair and went about eating breakfast in silence.

"Momma," Gracie spoke, first to break the silence. "Where's da-da?" Her question was so innocent and spoken so softly that Jane thought she'd heard wrong. She froze, flicking her gaze to Maura who seemed just as surprised by the question. She wanted desperately to have heard wrong, to believe that the monster that had locked them away had not played any part in the toddlers life. Maura straightened in her seat and gathered herself enough to answer.

"I don't know Grace. For now I want you to focus on your food please." Her voice was clipped and shorter than usual, and Jane wasn't entirely sure what to do. Gracie went quiet and picked at her food the same way any dejected child did and Maura stopped eating completely, standing from the table and taking her plate with her. Behind her Jane heard the tap start, and then the clatter of fry pan and porcelain as the blonde started the dishes without another word.

The doctors had said some of Maura's broken bones were five years old, and at the time Jane had struggled to imagine was it must have been like, to be trapped down there in the middle of no where, only visitor being someone that wanted nothing more than to inflict pain and suffering for so long. Now, the brunette was really struggling to even grasp an idea of the mental and physical strain. It hadn't just been the custom built prison, or the bone shattering attacks. It had been raising a child with a monster for a father, looking at her little face and seeing his, and not being able to do anything about it because some of that little face also mimicked her own. What she was doing was more than taking in a victim, it was the ability to introduce the blonde to a world where she didn't have to expect brutal beatings and unjust imprisonment. It was a life that she could raise her daughter freely, with nothing more than scars and memories and Jane was eager to show her that.

Standing, Jane clapped her hands as if to signal the true beginning of the day.

"I thought maybe we could get out of the house today, do a little shopping and find some clothes that fit you both a bit better?" She let her statement come out with a questioning undertone so Maura didn't feel obliged to agree. There had been too much domination in her life already, and the brunette was determined not to be another forceful factor.

"I don't have any money." Came the quiet, shame filled reply.

"I've got this one, it's not a big deal. Besides if I make you keep swimming in my clothes, I'll have nothing left to wear, so it's not just in your favour." Her bright smile drew a smaller one from Maura, and the blonde nodded as she finished up the dishes.

* * *

Shopping hadn't been an all day affair. Instead it had been rather prompt and they hadn't successfully purchased everything they'd set out for. While she hadn't said anything, Jane could sense Maura becoming more and more over whelmed with the crowds, and she clung to Gracie like a life line as they ventured through the department store. So she had cut it short and had instead bought the pair lunch and showed them to a secluded small park that she was sure would be abandoned. The adults sat on a park bench and watched as Gracie ventured slowly and curiously around the single swing set.

"He was good with her, she doesn't understand what he... What he was." Her voice was quiet and came in between nibbles of her sandwich. "He bought her those crayons and she got excited about his visits. He never touched me in front of her. He taught her that we were a _family_. How do I fix that?" Her words were heart breaking, and maybe the first real words she'd spoken to Jane outside of her little confession at the hospital. The detective was about to reply when the toddler stumbled in the distance and caught herself on little hands and knees. Maura was up in a flash and as she ran toward her little girl, she heard Jane's voice behind her.  
"You're a good mother Maura, and he can never take that away."


End file.
